


We Are Gold (You Are Fire)

by SOMETHINREAL



Series: seungcheol is a super-virgin [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions of Underage Sex, School Dances, Underage Drug Use, edgy! jeonghan, it's just weed, little brother! chan, set vaguely in toronto, soft! cheol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMETHINREAL/pseuds/SOMETHINREAL
Summary: If there’s one thing that needs to be made clear, it’s that Choi Seungcheol’s friends are rude. And don’t get him wrong-- they’re not rude in the disrespectful, no-good teenager kind of way, but rather in theI’m constantly horny and will fuck anything that breatheskind of way.(alternatively: seungcheol is a super-virgin and his friends are nasty. enter yoon jeonghan; high out of his mind at their semi-formal.)
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: seungcheol is a super-virgin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723774
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97





	We Are Gold (You Are Fire)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a rollercoaster. thank u rumi for reading this and telling me it's not shit (and for leaving those comments on google docs for me <3 also this was supposed to be crack but became much more serious than intended at the end.  
> han's [semi fit](https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/757589968550704929/)  
> cheol's [semi fit](https://www.pinterest.fr/pin/806285139512504951)  
> ft [this han](https://www.pinterest.fr/pin/786441153664650453/) and [this cheol](https://twitter.com/coupsactivities/status/1081715383000805383)  
> title from youarefire by lany!

If there’s one thing that needs to be made clear, it’s that Choi Seungcheol’s friends are rude. And don’t get him wrong-- they’re not rude in the disrespectful, no-good teenager kind of way, but rather in the _I’m constantly horny and will fuck anything that breathes_ kind of way. And it’s not necessarily a bad thing, because Seungcheol’s a horny teenage boy, too, so he gets it. It’s just that his friends’ constant talk about who they’re laying is kind of embarrassing. 

Seungcheol’s sort of like a super-virgin.

He knows that it’s completely normal for him to be a self-proclaimed super-virgin because he’s not even eighteen yet and he’s never actually looked for someone to actively lay, but it’s kind of detrimental to his mental health when his friends (some of whom are _younger_ than him!!) go on and on about how their latest sexcapades have gone. Which, ew, first of all. 

It’s not like they really know he’s a super-virgin; he’s never _told_ them. He’s quiet about his non-existent sex life, and they don’t really ask. They assume, though. It’s hard not to, really, when they’re going on about how many people they’ve had however many times over and Seungheol’s just sat there, quietly laughing along to the parts he thinks he should. Besides, they don’t poke fun at him _that_ much. 

(Something like, “Ah, don’t worry, Cheol. There’s gotta be _someone_ out there who’ll fuck you.” To which he would respond, “How’s your dick? Still chaffed from all that jerking off? Finally dried off yet?”)

Their semi-formal dance is finally around the corner, and, as predicted, Seungcheol doesn’t have a date. It’s not like he needs one, let alone _wants_ one. In all honesty, he doesn’t even want to go the stupid dance at all. But all his friends are going, and it’s his last year to be able to go. Besides, if he ditches them, he’ll never hear the end of it. 

“So anyway, who are your dates?” They’re sitting in the grass under the line of trees by their soccer/football/track field. It’s Hyunwoo who speaks. 

Hyunwoo’s the oldest of them all, and eighteen-going-on-nineteen. He likes to say that he’s still in high school because his parents put him in late but it’s really because he failed the second semester of ninth grade. 

“I’m taking Wonwoo,” Mingyu says, and it’s almost sort of proud. It’s not like it’s a shock to anyone. They’ve been dating since they were fourteen and have not stopped being annoying about it since. Seungcheol toys with the straw in his apple juice as he watches Wonwoo play mindlessly with Mingyu’s hair, whose head is in his lap. They’ve always been good for each other, disgustingly so. Seungcheol distantly wonders if he’ll ever get that.

“Obviously,” someone says. Seungcheol thinks it might be Soonyoung, but he can’t be sure; he’s momentarily lost in his head about the events that will transpire on the night of semiformal. 

It’s bound to be a bust. Who is Seungcheol kidding? He hates school dances. The music is always shit and he does not want to spend his night watching girls grind on their boyfriends to songs that do not condone it. At least with the DJ there, he can request songs, and with the sudden influx of k-pop in America, and the astounding Korean population at his high school, there’s bound to be at least one BTS song on the playlist. Not that he actively listens to BTS. It’s just that he likes being able to listen to music in his mother tongue. 

“Hello? Earth to Seungcheol?” He’s suddenly aware of the hand waving in his face. 

“Huh?” he asks, pulled from his head. “Right. I, um. I’m not going with anybody.”

“Awe,” Hyunwoo coos, leaning over to pat Seungcheol’s knee. “Don’t worry, buddy. You’re hot enough-- I’ll find you a date.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes and pushes away Hyunwoo’s hand. 

“Yeah,” he starts. “Pass. You have bad taste.” And Hyunwoo will no doubt try to set him up with some person that he’s never met. Hanging out with someone you don’t know for a few hours is usually fine, but add in the aspect of ear-splitting music and (since it’s a school-sanctioned event) no alcohol to take the edge off and you have yourself a miserable evening. 

“You just don’t have a refined taste for beautiful women like me,” Hyunwoo says, and it earns a muted chuckle from the boys. They all know what _refined_ means to Hyunwoo. 

“I’ll have you know I have a comfortable taste in both beautiful men _and_ women, thanks. It’s just that our definitions are different.” 

Hyunwoo just laughs. “Speaking of pretty girls, did I ever tell you guys about the time…”

Seungcheol flops back onto the grass and closes his eyes. Now seems like as good a time as any to take a nap.

-

Semi-formal rolls around the corner and Seungcheol is still dateless, but comfortably so. His little brother, Chan, couldn’t stop nagging him after hearing that his big brother was going alone, so Seungcheol had done the only thing he could as a responsible _hyung_ and chided quietly in Korean, _Yah, I don’t see you having any dates to dances. Go do your math_. Chan had trudged off to hop up to their dining table to work on his times tables, as instructed. 

He gets out of the house only moderately ambushed by his overly affectionate mother, cooing at him with praises of, _Oh, my little boy is all grown up and_ so _handsome. What a lucky mother I am_. He lets her peck him on the cheek and rushes out the door before she can bombard him with any more affection and yells out, “Love you, mom! I’ll be back later!” so that she doesn’t later chide him for being rude. 

He finds it odd to be at his high school this late, especially on a Saturday. He also finds it odd to be dressed the way he is; in his burgundy suit and creme mock-neck. He stands outside the door and stares down at his shoes, which are freshly polished and look sleek in the night light. He’s going to go in. He’d paid for a ticket after all. 

Seungcheol paid thirty dollars to come to his school on a day he didn’t actually need to be there, to eat a mediocre dinner and sweat in uncomfortable clothing while he dances with his friends. 

Not sounding like too good a choice on his part. He almost turns around to head to the pizza shop but Minghao finds him before he can get a chance to move. He claps a hand on his shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, Cheol. You’re not getting out of this that quickly.” There’s a boy next to him that Seungcheol’s never seen. Minghao, sensing the awkwardness likely to arise, introduces them at the same time that he ushers them inside. “Seungcheol, this is my friend Junhui, but he likes to be called Jun. Jun, Seungcheol.”

By the way Junhui looks at Minghao, who’s decked out in purple and black, slacks that show off his long legs and creepers that add to his height, Seungcheol is convinced that Jun’s not just his friend. 

“Hiya,” Seungcheol says. Jun smiles politely and nods his head. A man of few words. Seungcheol can dig that. They show the VP their tickets at the door of the gym, and he lets them in. 

To Seungcheol’s surprise, the gym actually looks good. There’s an overall cool tone with the blue mood lights and tablecloths and green streamers; balloons printed with the dance’s title sit on each table, and space has been cleared to be the dance floor. Behind it stands a DJ booth currently lacking a DJ. Not bad for a cheaply run semi-formal. 

“Well,” Minghao says. “Should we go find the monsters we call friends?”

Seungcheol sighs dramatically. “Only if we must.”

Finding them is easy: they just have to listen for Soonyoung’s cackle and look for his head of brightly dyed hair. They’re greeted as expected; moderately kind introductions for Junhui and scolds to Minghao and Seungcheol for missing the first course, as though it wasn’t just a garden salad. They all fall into easy conversation, and Seungcheol’s not really paying attention because he’s picking his way through the chicken (which is actually really good. And like, it’s not dry either, which is a mega plus) that’s just been set in front of him, but the few words he hears Junhui utter are actually really, really funny. He fits in much better than anticipated; Seungcheol has to send him mental kudos because it’s one 1) really hard for his friends not to hate people and 2) really hard for people not to be so offended by his friend’s vulgar language that they, in turn, hate them back. 

The music starts at around eight-thirty and Soonyoung is (not surprisingly) the first one out there. The music hasn’t even gotten good yet-- it’s literally just a weird trap song with a remixed beat, but he’s out there vibing anyways. God, Seungcheol wonders where the man gets his energy from. Eventually, Hyunwoo pulls Mingyu out of his seat, who in turn grabs Wonwoo, leaving just Minghao and Junhui with Seungcheol, who is very much not enjoying himself and intends on showing it by eating lollipops and drinking glasses of Fanta like they’re alcohol that will take the edge off. 

They don’t. If anything, they add to the edge because the sugar makes him jittery. 

Seungcheol only feels his mood switch drastically when _Shine_ by Pentagon starts playing over the speakers. “Oh,” Junhui says. “So this DJ’s got _taste_ taste.”

“An absolute banger,” Seungcheol agrees, and Minghao nods enthusiastically. “We should probably go out there, huh?”

“Based on the way that Mingyu has been angrily dancing in our direction for the last two songs, I would say it’s about time.” 

They find their friends on the floor easily, Seungcheol running over to Soonyoung, who obviously knows the whole song and dance. He only joins in on the dance (alongside the rest of his friends, and a good population of the student body) when the chorus comes on, doing the shoot and everything. Dawn’s iconic vocals fill his ears and yeah, this is pretty dope. Seungcheol is kinda easy like that-- play one song he likes and his whole mood is flipped, regardless of what other horrid ’’’bops’’’’ come after it. He tries not to think about the events that came about after this release-- Pentagon deserve better. 

Seungcheol is actually enjoying himself, which is surprising. Another thing that’s surprising is the steady force that’s thrust upon him suddenly, and the fact that he’s choking on a lollipop. He almost spits out a startled _What the fuck?_ , but when he turns around and he sees that the culprit looks like _that_ , he doesn’t. 

He feels the sudden urge to hit up r/AskReddit and say _help! i [M17] just got trampled by the hottest dude [M?] at a school dance. he looks like he walked off the cover of an underground fashion magazine run by people who listen to korean rnb and think that menthol cigarettes make you cooler than the normal ones. what do I do?_ but that’s sort of not an option. 

“Shit, sorry, dude,” Seungcheol says, even though he was the victim. Is Seungcheol a super-virgin? Yeah, absolutely. He’s also always fucking horny. He just happens more discreet about it than his friends. 

Seungcheol cannot believe this man had the audacity to leave his house looking so fine without a date on his arm. And that he’s running into people for no reason. And that he’s… laughing? And he looks super sleepy. Is this dude _zooted_?

He asks just that. “Are you zooted or what?”

“Huh?” He bends his head down to hear better over the music. He’s wearing creepers, so he’s taller than Seungcheol, and when he leans in, a strand of bleached hair falls into his face. What a menace. 

“Are you high?”

The guy still looks confused, so Seungcheol imitates smoking a blunt, because why not. Finally understanding, the dude grins. “Shit, yeah, man. Fucking gummy bears.” 

Well, this is fun. Seungcheol, chatting up some guy who he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before who nearly killed him, and is high off his ass on gummy bear edibles at their semi. And he missed the end of his song, which has now switched to some slow grind-y type something. 

The guy looks at him really close, like Seungcheol is some kind of oddity, and says, “You’re pretty. Wanna dance?”

What is he going to say? No? 

It’s not like he has much of a choice, anyway, because the dude puts his hands on Seungcheol’s waist and pulls him closer. He puts his hands on the dude’s shoulders because he doesn’t actually know what to do with them. He’s never actually danced with someone like this genuinely-- late nights on sleep-deprivation in Minghao’s bedroom don’t count. 

“I’m Seungcheol,” he says over the music, because it’s just donned on him that he has no idea who this dude is; the least he could do is get on a first-name basis.

“Jeonghan,” he responds. Pretty name. But then again, he’s a pretty dude (has Seungcheol mentioned how attractive he is?) so it makes sense. Over Jeonghan’s shoulder, Seungcheol catches Hyunwoo making a face at him. It screams _what the fuck is going on?_ His date is low-key grinding on him, but he doesn’t seem to care, for once. Seungcheol makes a face back and shrugs. It’s supposed to mean _I dunno, dude_ but probably translates to _told you i could get pretty people_. 

He doesn’t, however, notice how Wonwoo and Mingyu are looking like proud parents in the corner, and that Soonyoung is gawking at him from the drink table. 

How can he, honestly, when he’s got a hot dude dancing on him for the first time in his life? 

The spell is broken when another couple bumps into them and sends them flying off the dance floor. What is it with his luck tonight? He’s really glad he chewed the end of his sucker now. “Jesus, what is it with getting trampled tonight?” Seungcheol asks rhetorically. Jeonghan laughs even though it’s not that funny, but he’s high, so it’s chill. 

“My head hurts,” he says, leaning closer to Seungcheol than he probably needs to. And yeah, dehydration and booming music will do that to you. “Wanna go outside?” What does Seungcheol really have to lose? 

Going outside is actually super nice. The cool night air feels great on his clammy skin, and the moon looks pretty up in the sky. Jeonghan leads him over to the line of trees and plops down under the one closest to the parking lot. Seungcheol follows suit, even though it’s damp and will probably stain his moderately nice pants. 

“You’re kinda cool,” Jeonghan says, like they’ve spoken more than three words to each other. “Like, I get the vibes.”

“Ohh...kay.” Vibe check: passed. Good to know. “You’re kinda cool too, I guess.” 

Seungcheol, despite knowing him for twenty minutes, if that, and sharing only a handful of words with Jeonghan, thinks he’s _very_ cool, and that’s not just his teenage boy brain talking. He likes that Jeonghan dresses so well, and that he’s actually got the balls to show up to a school-sanctioned event on edibles. Also his hair. It looks in equal parts stringy and soft which boggles Seungcheol’s mind. 

“You’re sort of really pretty,” Jeonghan starts, and his eyelids look heavy but he maintains his gaze on Seungcheol. Seungcheol is a second away from responding _Thanks, I guess?_ But Jeonghan says, “and I’m super high and it absolutely might be the weed talking but I kinda want to kiss you. I won’t if it’s weird though.” 

Oh. 

_r/AskReddit_

_hey! it’s me [M17] again. hot edgy boy is zooted and asked me if he could kiss me but i’ve never been kissed before so what do? please respond quickasjdkjds_

His brain sort of short circuits after that. 

“It was weird right? Sorry, man--”

“No!” Seungcheol says, and it’s much too excited, even to his own ears. He clears his throat. “No, it’s… fine. It’s just that I’ve never… y’know…” It’s embarrassing to admit aloud. 

Jeonghan smiles. “Oh, in that case, I can show you, if you want.” 

Part of him wants to jump off the nearest building. The other part is screaming _yes please_ over and over like a mantra. 

He tries to sound cool when he says, “Yeah, cool, sure,” but he actually just sounds wicked dumb. It must not matter to Jeonghan because he grabs Seungcheol’s chin and kisses him anyway. It’s sort of weird. Dry, if anything, and Seungcheol isn’t sure if he’s supposed to be moving his mouth or not but he tries to copy what Jeonghan does to him, and they start to work a rhythm. Jeonghan’s face is soft where he touches the skin, not quite sure what to do with his hands but suddenly overwhelmed with the want to touch Jeonghan. 

His face is red when Jeonghan pulls away. Thank God it’s dark outside. 

“Not bad for a first-timer,” Jeonghan says, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. He watches curiously as Jeonghan flops backwards. “D’you know the time?”

“Uh,” Seungcheol stalls, reaching for his phone. “Just after midnight. Dance is over now.” 

“Ugh,” Jeonghan says. “I should go home.” He pats all his pockets rather harshly and groans miserably. “ _Nooooo._ ”

“What?”

“I don’t have my key,” he moans. He fists his eyes tiredly, like a child. “It’s way too late to knock to be let in-- _uhhh_. What am I gonna do?” 

Seungcheol cannot believe the words that come out of his mouth. “Look, man, we don’t know each other well, but my house is just around the corner, if you wanna crash.”

_r/AskReddit_

_Help!! I, [M17] just_ … actually, you probably get it. How could he be so stupid? Inviting the boy who he’s known for less than an hour and has taken his kiss-virginity from him to sleep at his house? When he doesn’t know a thing about him except for his first name and that he likes weed and dressing like a fucking Pinterest _ulzzang_. Seungcheol is such a loser. 

“Really?” he asks. 

“I mean, sure.” 

They leave. 

-

Seungcheol wakes up in his mockneck from the previous night and with a sleeping Jeonghan on top of him. Which is cool. Very cool. Maybe it would have been cool if Seungcheol hadn’t just met him the previous night. Or that he weren’t a literal heavy sleeper. He seriously debates kicking Jeonghan onto the floor because he can hardly breathe. But he doesn’t do that. It’s not very nice, after all. 

After about ten or so minutes of lying uncomfortably, Seungcheol’s door swings open. 

“Cheol! Mom told me to wake you for breakfast and… oooh.” If he even thinks about-- “Mom! Seungcheol has a boy over!!” 

Little shit. 

He runs away giggling, and Seungcheol can’t even cuss him out because he’ll wake up sleeping beauty Jeonghan. Speaking of, amidst the commotion, Jeonghan had rolled off of Seungcheol and nuzzled himself into his neck. Seungcheol shivers. Jeonghan’s breath makes the skin of his neck damp. 

“Was that what all the ruckus was last night?” Ruckus? Seungcheol only distantly remembers knocking Chan’s iPad off the table. 

“Wha-?” 

His mom doesn’t look mad. Just like she's about to make some embarrassing comment. Which, knowing her, she likely will. “You know, Cheollie, I love you regardless of who you’re doing it with. I just hope you’re using protection.” _Aaaand_ there it is. 

“Oh my god, mom.” He would throw a hand over his face in embarrassment, but he doesn’t want to jostle Jeonghan. “It’s absolutely not like that. I literally met him last night at the dance. He couldn’t find his key so I let him crash here, I promise that’s it.”

His mother narrows her eyes at him. “Okay,” she says. She doesn’t look like she believes him, but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. “I made eggs and bacon. It’s on the stove. There should be enough for you and your _friend_.”

God, Seungcheol wants to jump off a building. 

“Yes, thank you, mom.”

“What’s my name?”

Seungcheol huffs a breath. “Eomma,” he mumbles. 

She grins. “Good boy.” His door closes. 

Jeonghan wakes up about ten minutes later with a grumbled sentence that Seungcheol can’t make out. When he sits up, his hair sticks out in different directions and his eyes are still puffy. “Huh?” he asks, and Jeonghan squints at him. 

“Hey,” he just says. 

“Hey.” Jeonghan scratches his head before trying (and mostly failing) to flatten his hair. “I have stuff,” Seungcheol says. “For your hair. If you want.”

“It’s okay.” Jeonghan shrugs. “Sorry for sleeping on top of you. I’m a clinger.”

Good god, his groggy voice is like music to Seungcheol’s ears. He would very much like to hear it and nothing but it for the rest of his life, thanks a lot. Also, the fact that he refers to himself as a _clinger_ is adorable. If Jeonghan weren’t so visually intimidating with his all-black attire and nose piercing and stringy blond hair Seungcheol might call him cute to his face. But Seungcheol knows better than that. 

“My mom made eggs and bacon, if you want some.” 

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Jeonghan looks at Seungcheol really close for a second like he did last night. “Did I call you pretty last night?”

Seungcheol feels a full-bodied surge of anxiety simultaneously enter and leave him. “...Yeah.”

“Hmm,” he tuts, hopping off the bed. He stretches his back, and it cracks. “High-me wasn’t lying, but sorry if I was weird.”

Are they really not going to talk about it? How Jeonghan stole Seungcheol’s kiss virginity? At all? Seungcheol feels like it’s at the very least moderately important. 

“Oh, hey, before we go eat, can I borrow a shirt? This one is all wrinkly and kind of smelly.” 

Apparently not. Fine. Seunghceol will just let it consume his every thought for a while. 

“Oh, sure,” Seungcheol says, hopping off the bed himself. His legs feel wobbly as he walks to his dresser. “Any preference?”

“Nope.”

He tosses Jeonghan a band shirt, which he catches easily. “Do you want me to--” but Jeonghan just strips off his shirt. 

Seungcheol means to look away, really, but it’s the first time he’s seen another guy shirtless this close that wasn’t one of the boys from gym class or one of his friends. Can you really blame him? Jeonghan is thin, but still fit, pale skin for miles and oh, wow, “Is that a tattoo?”

“What? Oh, yeah, wanna see?” Jeonghan lifts his arm to show off the artwork; a coiling snake done in dark ink that stands out against his skin, staining the taut skin of his ribs. “Cool, huh? Hurt like a bitch.”

“Your parents let you get a tattoo? My mom is pretty chill but she would never let me get a tattoo at this age.”

Jeonghan chuckles and looks down, tugging on the shirt. “Yeah, well. My mom has lots, so she couldn’t really say no. Besides, I paid for it.” 

“Crazy. Wanna go eat?”

-

Seungcheol only realizes his mistake when Jeonghan approaches him and his friends at lunch in their spot under the trees. Soonyoung is in the middle of talking about some new TV show or something, and the rest of them are listening diligently. Seungcheol can only focus on the sudden pounding in his chest. 

Jeonghan is effortlessly cool in his flowing button-down, with a tight black turtleneck tucked into black jeans, stupidly lithe and unnecessarily pretty. 

Soonyoung stops his story and the group of boys look up at him. Jeonghan either doesn’t notice the eyes on him or he doesn’t care, because he just looks to Seungcheol and says, “Here’s your shirt.”

It lands in Seungcheol’s lap with a soft _thwap_. His friends all look at him like something great has happened and he _knows_ what it looks like. He _knows_ what they’re going to think. “Cheollie,” Soonyoung coos. Seungcheol feels like digging himself a grave. “What is your Smiths shirt doing with this fine gentleman, hmm?”

“Uh,” Seungcheol says, looking to Jeonghan for help, but now he’s not looking. How is he to explain to his friends that this man took his kiss-virginity after twenty minutes of knowing him and then slept over at his house? 

“Oh, I needed to borrow a shirt for gym second period, so I asked Seungcheol since we’re in first together. He had this one in his locker so I was just giving it back.” Jeonghan shrugs coolly. Seungcheol wants to bow to him and kiss his feet for saving his ass so easily like that. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s Cheollie’s first period?”

Jeonghan looks at Soonyoung like he’s insane, but, like, in a cool way. God Seungcheol wants to scream. “Art, why?” Jeonghan asks. He shoves one hand into his pocket as the other tucks hair behind his ear. This man is always playing with his hair. “You don’t believe me?”

Seungcheol swears that he hears one of them mumble _Good guess_ , under their breath, and yeah, it is. 

“Of course we do,” Minghao says, elbowing Soonyoung in the side. Thank god for Minghao, always having his back. 

“Hmmm,” Soonyoung hums, narrowing his eyes at Jeonghan. “What’s your name? Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Yeah, it’s Jeonghan. We have law together.”

They do?

“We do?”

Jeonghan laughs. “Yeah, man. I walk past your desk like, every day.”

“Huh,” Soonyoung says. “I never noticed.”

Jeonghan shrugs again. “Whatever. I’ll see you guys around. And, thanks for the shirt, Seungcheol.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Seungcheol mumbles, but Jeonghan is already walking away. 

His friends don’t question him again. 

-

Seungcheol finds Jeonghan while he’s walking home. Jeonghan is leant against the bus stop coolly, one earbud in and the other wrapped and dangling over his ear. When he notices Seungcheol, he smiles, and Seungcheol can’t help but smile back. 

“Hey,” he says, stopping a few feet away. “I just wanted to say thanks. For saving my ass at lunch, I mean. My friends are… well, if they’d gotten any ideas I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “No problem. And I get it-- I kinda got some vibes from them.” 

“Seriously,” Seungcheol says. “I shouldn’t have to worry about it since we didn’t even do anything. But my friends are kind of obsessed with the fact that I’m--” he cuts himself off. He’s not sure if he’s ready to admit to Jeonghan that he’s a super-virgin. Well. Maybe less of one now. “Their lives just sorta revolve around sex.”

“Mmm,” Jeonghan hums. “They’ve got that gross teenage boy thing going on.”

“Yeah. I mean like, pretty much every teenage boy thinks about sex. They’re just not modest about it.” A moment of silence passes. “You going home?” That’s a dumb question. Where else would he be going?

“Yeah. You?”

“Yep.”

“You have anything going on tonight?” Jeonghan asks. Seungcheol watches him tuck a strand of his blond hair behind his ear with a ring-clad hand. 

“I don’t think so, why?”

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to come to my house. I have some edibles if you want. And beer. Or soda. Whatever.” 

Seungcheol can’t decide if it’s weird or not. He supposes that they’ve already breached a level of intimacy that they probably shouldn’t have, but there’s also the fact that they’ve hardly hung out before except for semi and breakfast the following morning, and that Seungcheol’s attraction to Jeonghan is the only thing keeping him interested. There’s weed in the mix now, so that’s kinda dope. 

“Oh,” Seungcheol says. “Yeah, sure. Cool.”

“You got bus fare?” Seungcheol digs in his pockets for a moment. He pulls out his metro pass and waves it proudly. Jeonghan grins at him. “Great. Bus’ll be here in a few.”

-

The ride to Jeonghan’s house is not very long, but feels that way since it’s so crowded. Seungcheol spends the majority of the ride trying not to get a whiff of the BO from the dude using the standing pole beside him while Jeonghan tries very hard to stifle his laughter at Seungcheol’s disgust. He’s never been happier to get off the bus. 

When Jeonghan leads him up the porch steps and inside the house, he takes off his shoes and leaves them by the door. 

“You want something to drink? There’s like, coke and juice and stuff. Beer, if that’s what you like.”

“Beer tastes like fizzy piss water. Do you have orange soda?” 

He watches Jeonghan walk to the kitchen. “Yeah, probably.”

The house is quaint and warm, looking and feeling the good kind of lived in-- Seungcheol likes the way that the couch and the armchair don’t really match and that there are books and papers strewn on the coffee table. 

As Jeonghan digs around in the fridge, Seungcheol busies himself in looking at the photos of Jeonghan as a child on the mantel: one of him in first grade, missing teeth and grinning wide, another of him at what is presumably a birthday party, just hitting puberty and awkward looking, and another… well, that’s interesting. It’s a photo of Jeonghan, that’s for sure, but it’s the two adults Jeonghan is having a hard time putting his finger on. 

“I was adopted,” Jeonghan says, suddenly standing next to Seungcheol, orange soda in hand. “My dad is white and my mom is Dominican.” he shrugs. 

Seungcheol doesn’t want to sound rude when he says this, but feels like it’s virtually impossible, so he says it anyway, “but your name? And you speak Korean fluently? You were having a wholeass conversation with my mom over breakfast.”

Jeonghan just laughs. “My mom was a teacher in Korea,” he explains. “She thought it would be good to teach me my background. My dad picked the name.” He shrugs and hands Seungcheol the orange soda, chilled from the fridge. “I mean, it’s fine I guess. Sometimes I wished they’d just named me, like, Jaden or something. That would be cool.” 

“So, if your mom is Dominican, do you speak Spanish?” He follows Jeonghan as he walks up the stairs, presumably to his bedroom. Seungcheol all of a sudden feels very jittery. 

“Kinda,” he says. “She taught me more Korean than Spanish, but like, I can get by in a decent conversation with my relatives.” 

“That’s sick,” Seungcheol says. “I almost failed Spanish.”

“Really?” Jeonghan asks. Seungcheol hums, standing awkwardly by the door as he watches Jeonghan dig around in his desk. After a moment or so, he pulls out a little ziploc baggie with a few gummy bears in it. He grins a wolfish grin. “Wanna get high?”

What the fuck does Seungcheol have to lose?

-

About an hour later, when he’s pleasantly high, Seungcheol asks, “So, how did you even know about my first period class anyways?” His eyelids feel heavy, and he knows that he’s grinning, but it feels wrong if he stops. His head is in Jeonghan’s lap; they’re on his floor. Mitski plays on the record player. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Just saw you walk in there once or twice. It was a lucky guess.” And he kinda sounds like he’s lying, but Seungcheol doesn’t really have the energy to question him. 

“Mmmmm,” Seungcheol says. He cannot think of a better place to be. “The scent of flowers still in bloom, from morning shower,” he croons. 

“And I say your name in hopes you hear in the storm,” Jeonghan echoes. His hand is dangerously close to being tangled in Seungcheol’s hair. Seungcheol feels the itch in the tips of his own fingers to do it himself. He doesn’t

“You’re so cool,” Seungcheol says. His tongue feels thick and he wants to be kissed. 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Jeonghan tells him right back. His eyes are heavy. (He wants to be kissed, too.) 

“Seriously,” Seungcheol says. “You have cool hair, and your style is sick, like an ulzzang. Do you know what that is?”

Jeonghan gives him a small laugh. “Yes, Cheol, I know what that is.”

“I like nicknames. You should keep calling me nicknames.”

Jeonghan looks down to him, and if Seungcheol’s eyes were open he would see that Jeonghan is looking at him like he’s looking _into_ him, and he’s looking at him like he’s precious. His hands itch with the urge to rest his hands on Seungcheol’s full cheeks and silky hair. “I’ll keep calling you nicknames,” Jeonghan tells him, grinning outwardly at the _yesssss_ that Seungcheol murmurs. “What do you want? Just Cheol?”

“Cheollie,” he says, without missing a beat.

“Cheollie,” Jeonghan says, testing the name out on his tongue. “It’s cute.”

“I’m cute.” 

Jeonghan flicks his nose, and Seungcheol opens his eyes. “You want frozen pizza?” he asks, just to change the subject. 

“God, yes,” Seungcheol says, easily. “I’m starving. I’ve had the munchies for the past ten minutes.”

-

Naturally, they fall into a sort of rhythm with one another. Seungcheol goes out of his way to pass Jeonghan at his locker just so he can smile and wave; Jeonghan will nod at him from the end of the lunch line. They’ve been to each other’s houses a handful of times (Seungcheol had met Jeonghan’s parents, and they were probably the sweetest people on earth. Despite this, Jeonghan clearly gets this edgy look and attitude from his mother, who Seungcheol had complimented profusely on the half-sleeve tattoo she has. His father had patted him on the back as he left like a good old fashioned Dad would, and told him to come again. Seungcheol probably would). Sometimes, if Seungcheol has an assignment to do and he can weasel away from his friends, Jeonghan will meet him in the library and they’ll talk. 

It seems that it’s also natural not to bring up the night of their meeting.

At this point, Seungcheol isn’t even sure if Jeonghan remembers it or not. He doesn’t _think_ memory loss is an effect of marijuana, but what else is he to think when Jeonghan hasn’t even _looked_ at him in a way that would suggest he thinks about kissing Seungcheol? Then again, Seungcheol hasn’t really brought it up, either. 

What’s he supposed to say? _Hey, can we talk about the fact that you took my first kiss and now all I can think about is that?_

Actually, that’s probably exactly what he should say. Whatever. It’s not like he’s going to. 

Jeonghan comes over to his house on a Sunday afternoon. It’s sunny, but they stay inside. They’d spent most of the afternoon trying (and failing to make some weird maple bacon hotdogs on a skewer that absolutely failed due to them forgetting them in the oven. They’d also tried to make chocolate-dipped strawberries, which also didn’t work because not only did they add too much butter to the chocolate, they also burned it, so it came out clumpy and gross and not sticking to the fruit). Finally finished with it and awaiting the arrival of Mrs. Choi and little Chan, who’d spent the weekend at his father’s across the city, they sit on Seungcheol’s bedroom floor, trying to pick music to put on the record player. 

“Okay, so,” Seungcheol says, pulling out the vinyl carrying case he has stuffed in his closet. He flops down across from Jeonghan, the player in between them, and carefully pulls out the LPs. He fans them out across the hardwood. “Most of this is weird shit that I collected in middle school because I was one of those 2015 emos, you know. So don’t think that I have a shit taste in music.”

“Oh, I have to see that."

“You really don’t want to,” Seungcheol shakes his head. He used to think _Panic!_ was the height of music, that Ryan Ross was some kind of lyric god (not that he isn’t, it’s just more pretentious that Seungcheol remembers it being). “Seriously. I wore the same MCR beanie and various items of clothing from Hot Topic every day for like two years. It also didn’t help that I was a heavily closeted bisexual.”

“Mmmm,” Jeonghan hums, his fingers dancing over the records. “If it makes you feel any better, I was pretty much the exact same. At least you weren’t into screamo, dude.” 

“Oh, god.”

“Uh huh. I used to listen to the same song by Motionless in White everyday. _Knives and Pens_ by Black Veil Brides was my alarm, Cheollie. My _alarm_.” Jeonghan shakes his head like he’s trying to shake the memory out of his head. 

“If it makes _you_ feel better, Andy Biersack is like, super hot now.” 

Jeonghan sighs dreamily and looks up to the ceiling. “Oh, I know.” He pushes forward _23_ by HYUKOH. “This one.” So Jeonghan really _does_ have taste. Seungcheol thought Mitski might have just been a one off. He takes the record out of its sleeve and puts it on the player, letting the needle fall in place.

For a while, they’re just sitting on the floor, Jeonghan bobbing his head along with the music, Seungcheol with his eyes closed tapping the beat into his thigh. It’s not until _2002WorldCup_ comes on that Jeonghan says, “hey, wanna dance?” and Seungcheol’s eyes shoot open. He’s standing with a hand extended to help Seungcheol up, should he say yes. 

And obviously, he’s going to say yes. “Why not?”

That’s how he ends up beside Jeonghan, hands thrown above his head, jumping around to the song. His eyes are closed, and not on Jeonghan, who bobs along, though it’s clear he's not focused on the dancing. At least, not his own. 

“When you die, I’ll be next to you,” Seungcheol sings along, spinning in place. When his eyes open, he finds that Jeonghan’s are already on him. “What?” he asks Jeonghan, who tries to stifle a smile and shakes his head. Seungcheol’s arms drop to his sides. 

“Don’t stop,” Jeonghan says. “You’re good.” It means something else. 

“You’re the one who suggested dancing, and you’re not even dancing. Come here.” Seungcheol grabs Jeonghan’s wrist and pulls him closer, going back to the swaying and shimmying. 

“I _can_ dance, you know,” Jeonghan says. 

“I don’t believe you,” Seungcheol tells him, even though he does. 

“I’ll prove it,” Jeeonghan says. He steps closer, and Seungcheol feels the air around him get thinner. He starts off moving his shoulders, then his hips, and eventually he throws his arms over Seungcheol’s shoulders and grins. “Who can’t dance?”

It’s Seungcheol’s turn to stare blankly. 

Jeonghan’s grin falls slightly, like he’s interested in the sudden change of mood, and it's almost like he’s going to lean in, before--

“Hey!” it’s Chan. Of course it’s Chan. Seungcheol loves his brother dearly, don’t get him wrong, it’s just that he always seems to be barging in at the wrong times. “Jeonghannie!!” he exclaims, and Jeonghan pulls away to let Chan hug his leg. 

“Hey, buddy,” he says, ruffling Chan’s hair. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Dancing. Wanna join?” It’s how Jeonghan gets him holding his hand and jumping around like a fish out of water, Chan giggling loudly and following Jeonghan’s every move. Seungcheol can only smile at them and half-heartedly sway with them, taking Chan’s other hand when he sticks it out for him. 

Later, after Jeonghan’s gone home and Chan has long gone to bed, Seungcheol lies awake in his bed with his headphones bleeding, thinking. 

Just thinking.

-

Seungcheol is playing _Crash Bandicoot_ on his Switch when he hears a knock on the front door. He doesn’t really bother to get up to inquire who it is-- it _is_ a Friday and his mother is a very social woman, so it’s probably just one of the neighbours returning tupperware or something from the cul-de-sac barbecue that was held last week. 

He realizes, only as he falls to his death, from the voice at the door speaking soft-spoken Korean that it is not, in fact, one of the neighbours, but instead Jeonghan. 

“Hello, Ms Choi,” he says, and he’s probably smiling in that boy-you’d-bring-home-to-your-parents kind of way, but his voice is muffled through Seungcheol’s closed bedroom door, so he can’t tell. He shoots up from his bed and presses his ear against it because he’s curious. 

“Jeonghan,” his mother croons. “What a surprise.” Thing is, his mother really likes Jeonghan. Like, _really,_ really. Like, enough that she wants him in the family. Either adopted in or married-- she’s not picky and has said this to Seungcheol on multiple occasions. 

He can hear Jeonghan laugh politely, albeit muffled. “I’m sorry to come without an invitation,” he says. “But I was wondering if I could borrow your son for a while.” 

Borrow Seungcheol? Why the surprise? It’s not like he and Jeonghan don’t text all the time. He could have just shot him a message and skipped the theatrics. 

“You know I have no problem with that, honey,” his mother says. “Let me go fetch him.”

Seungcheol, upon hearing her footsteps, scrambles to his bed and tries to feign innocence as he buries his nose back in his Switch. As his door opens, he looks up curiously. “Hey, mom. Who’s at the door?” he asks, like he didn’t have his ear pressed to the door to catch a listen. 

“Your friend Jeonghan. He asked to borrow you.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol says, plugging in his device and putting some socks on. “Can I go?"

“Seungcheol, you’re almost eighteen years old. Yes, you can be with your friend on a Friday night. Just, don’t come home too late.” Seungcheol kisses her on the cheek and slithers by her. 

“Thank you!” 

Upon entering the living room, he sees Jeonghan leaning against the wall, ruffling Chan’s hair. They’re talking quietly, Jeonghan probably entertaining Chan’s tales of his TV shows or what have you. Jeonghan smiles when he notices Seungcheol step in. 

“Are you bugging Jeonghan?” Seungcheol teases, poking Chan’s shoulder. 

“Nuh-uh,” Chan huffs, crossing his arms. “Jeonghan likes my stories. Right, Hannie?” 

Hannie? When did Seungcheol’s little brother get on nickname terms with Jeonghan? “Of course I do, buddy,” Jeonghan tells him. “How about you finish your story some other time, hmm? I’d love to listen later."

“Okay!” Chan says, and scuttles off to do whatever kids his age do. 

“Hey,” Seungcheol says. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan echoes. 

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing at my house uninvited or am I supposed to guess?”

“You busy?” Jeonghan asks, like a text wouldn’t have sufficed. Not that Seungcheol is complaining. He loves spontaneity, actually. Things like this make him feel like he’s in some shitty teen indie movie with a soundtrack made by The 1975. 

Seungcheol glances down at his Adidas joggers and band shirt with vague disdain. “Do I look like someone who is currently busy to you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Come on then.”

-

About fifteen minutes later, they’re walking off the path by the river that goes through their suburb. It’s kind of cool out, and Seunghceol wishes he’d grabbed a jacket instead of just his hoodie. And he’d forgotten his phone, so the only light they have is from Jeonghan’s. It’s nice though, pretty.

“Where are we going?” Seungcheol asks, vaguely feeling like he’s going to be murdered. “You better not be trying to murder me out here. If you are, I find it very cruel, especially because you asked my mother’s permission first.” 

“Cheollie, if I was going to murder you, first of all, I wouldn’t have asked your mother’s permission, and second of all, I’d have already done it. To answer your question: we are going to my special place.”

That… sounds moderately mysterious and pretentious-- maybe Seungcheol _is_ living in a coming of age movie. “Your special place,” Seungcheol repeats, only slightly mocking. 

“Yes.” 

“Right.”

“Don’t sound so bummed,” Jeonghan tells him, chastising. “This makes you a very special person. I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Oh, please,” Seungcheol huffs.

“I’m serious. You’re the first.”

Oh. This certainly makes Seungcheol feel special in ways he shouldn’t. He’s suddenly very warm despite the frigid night air. “The first?” he asks, just to make sure.

“The first,” Jeonghan confirms. He must read into the way Seungcheol is looking at him because he smiles and says, “Come on. It’s not that much farther.”

They trek through a bit more shrubbery, through branches and leaf piles until they reach an odd dome-shaped thing with a thick steel door. It doesn’t look big from the front, but Seungcheol assumes that it has more to offer inside. Maybe. This might be it. 

“They used to store munitions here during one of the wars,” Jeonghan explains. He uses a sleeve-covered hand to open the heavy door. “Obviously, it’s been abandoned. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

Within it, though Seungcheol can’t see much with only Jeonghan’s phone light to help him, he can see a large comforter in the middle with a stack of books next to it, among other things. Seungcheol wanders around, looking at the graffiti on the walls. 

The hand that finds his shoulder makes him jump. 

“What?” Jeonghan asks, clearly amused. “You scared?”

Obviously, Seungcheol is a little unnerved, at best. He’s in an abandoned munitions bunker in the middle of the woods without a cell phone, and as much as he trusts Jeonghan, if they were to somehow miraculously die or get injured, no one would know where they were. Of course, Seungcheol can’t let Jeonghan know this. He’s got an image to keep up.

“Me? I’m not scared.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeonghan asks coyly. In an instant, the light is gone, and darkness overtakes them. “Still not scared?” His voice ricochets off the curved walls, effectively aiding in hiding his location, as Seungcheol’s eyes haven’t yet adjusted to the inky black of the bunker. 

“Haha,” Seungcheol deadpans. “Very funny.” His voice only trembles a little bit. “I’m not a kid. I’m not scared of the dark, Jeonghan.”

Light fills the bunker from behind him, and he turns to see Jeonghan standing about ten feet away from him. “I’m not scared,” Seungcheol repeats. He crosses his arms to mask the fact that he currently is, in fact, scared of the dark. 

“You’re not scared?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Why’d you even bring me here, anyway?” 

“Wanted to do something,” Jeonghan shrugs. 

“What ‘something’?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“Isn’t that the whole--” Again, Seungcheol is in the dark. “Seriously, Jeonghan. It’s not funny.”

He’s very light on his feet, that’s a given. He’s nearly silent as he moves, but one misstep will send noise flying, bouncing around Seungcheol’s head and failing to help him figure out were Jeonghan is. 

“Okay,” Seungcheol relents. “Maybe I’m a little scared.” 

At the admission, light comes from behind him. He turns, only to find Jeonghan, though much closer than he had been prior. He’s grinning, coy.

“Is that what you wanted?” Seungcheol asks. Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, only inches closer, and closer, and closer still until Seungcheol starts to lean up. Their lips just barely brush when: inky blackness. Seungcheol bites down a remark and chews his bottom lip. He spins around, eyes struggling to focus until he spots Jeonghan, just outside the door, still in the dark, but significantly more illuminated by the moon. 

Seungcheol’s feet take him until he’s at the doorway, where he hesitates. A wave of fear washes over him, but for reasons different than before. “What,” Jeonghan says, “You scared of the woods, too?” 

Seungcheol can only smile, albeit small. He takes another step, extending his hand. Another; the other hand. One final step and Jeonghan is right in front of him, his slender hands grasping Seungcehol’s own. 

Finally, _finally_ , Jeonghan kisses him. 

-

The next morning, Seungcheol finds himself in a very similar predicament as the morning after semi-formal. It’s probably around nine, and Jeonghan has a leg draped over his waist and his nose buried in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck. This time, Seungcheol isn't fretting over the fact that he’d let a stranger into his bed. This time, Seungcheol pulls Jeonghan tighter. 

After a while, Jeonghan blinks his eyes open and lifts a hand to rub the sleep out of them. Before Seungcheol can get a word out, Jeonghan kisses him. It’s slow, languid, like they have all the time in the world. Seungcheol’s hands find Jeonghan’s back when he climbs atop him, and Jeonghan’s slither up to grip Seungcheol’s jaw. The concept of kissing is still quite foreign to Seungcheol, but he could get used to being woken up like this. 

They kiss lazily, the sun flickering in through the cracks in the blinds and giving the room a warm hazy glow. Seungcheol feels that he doesn’t ever want to be greeted in the morning in any way but Jeonghan’s kisses. 

“Can we do this all the time?” Seungcheol asks, some ten minutes later when their positions have swapped and he’s on top of Jeonghan. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you.”

“Semi? Because you did. You took my kiss-virginity on the football field after we got booted off the dance floor.”

“I wasn’t sure you remembered that,” Jeonghan says, and is about to say something else when Seungcheol cuts him off. 

“ _You_ weren’t sure if _I_ remembered that? How could I forget some model-looking asshole high on edibles taking my first kiss? _I_ wasn’t sure _you_ remembered.” 

Jeonghan just shakes his head and tangles his fingers in Seungcheol’s mess of thick hair, like he’d wanted to weeks ago. “But no, that wasn’t the first time I saw you.” Seungcheol does his best to incline his head where it’s turned up to look at Jeonghan. “I was a new student,” Jeonghan starts, the fingers not tangled in Seungcheol’s hair deftly running along his spine. Goosebumps rise under his t-shirt. “I was getting shown around by one of the students, this girl who I talk to sometimes on the student council. She was showing me to the downstairs classes, and we passed by the art room. Through the window, I saw you, but you didn’t see me. You were laughing really hard at one of your friends’ jokes. Like, really hard. Your head was tipped back and you were covering your mouth like it would stop you from making noise. And the first thing I thought was--”

“What a fucking dork?”

Jeonghan laughs. “No-- I thought. _Wow._ He’s so beautiful. I want to do nothing but shower him in adoration and praise forever.”

“Don’t get mushy. You’re supposed to be the scary brooding one.” Seungcheol says, tucking his face under Jeonghan’s chin to hide the redness in his cheeks. After a while: “ _Doyouwannabemyboyfriend_?” he murmurs, cringing at how juvenile it sounds. 

“Speak up, Cheollie.”

“I said… do you wanna… be my boyfriend? Maybe??” Seungcheol asks. He sits up so that his thighs are bracketing Jeonghan’s hips. 

“You asked that like I was going to say no,” Jeonghan says, tugging Seungcheol down by the front of his shirt so their noses are brushing. “Did you miss me saying that I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you? Yes, I want to be your boyfriend, Cheollie. I would like nothing else than to be your boyfriend.” 

Seungcheol pecks Jeonghan on the lips once more before falling into his chest. “Cool,” he says. 

Jeonghan just shakes his head, grinning. “Cool,” he repeats.

(And later, once they’ve both fallen asleep again, Ms. Choi comes in to ask if they want something to eat. Upon seeing her son wrapped up in Jeonghan’s arms, she does nothing but smile and shut the door gently behind her. Not before taking a photo, that is. She’d like to have at least _some_ photos of her future son in law.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> do NOT ask me why jeonghan is adopted it just happened. hope u enjoyed.  
> [twt](http://twitter.com/somethlnreal) [tumblr](https://somethin-real.tumblr.com)


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